


Requiem of the Free Isles

by 23CR3T



Category: Thrilling Intent (Web Series), Vocaloid
Genre: AU, Anthony Chiaroscuro, Gen, Grand Pappy Hartway's tragic backstory, Horatio Protagonist, Kinda, Magic, More stories need to start with Gregor, No Prior Knowledge Needed, Synchronicity AU, The Church, the punch dome
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-14
Updated: 2017-07-23
Packaged: 2018-12-02 06:09:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11503350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/23CR3T/pseuds/23CR3T
Summary: At the very beginning there was only the sleeping one, only them and silence.  Bored and unmoved they breathed existence into the universe...In which things are wrong and some people want to fix it, and someone doesn't have enough time.





	1. A Legend

**Author's Note:**

> Based lightly on the Synchronicity trilogy of Vocaloid songs. There is honestly not much explained by watching the song music videos.  
> These are the song if you want to see the cool art: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eiNc0N-447E

At the very beginning there was only the sleeping one, only them and silence.  Bored and unmoved they breathed existence into the universe, creating the basic elements needed to create colour and light.  For a long time there was nothing but a colourful canvas, yet they eventually tired of that also, they went on to crash the gases together creating new things, their force binding the fabric of space to create the planets themselves.  The birth of our world began as the creator, tired from endless years of sitting and watching, took leave, resting in the warm center of our world.  Years pass in a blink for them, what is the entirety of sentient existence is a mere second of sleep for them.  

While they slept we built, spread, advanced, multiplied, and got noisier and noisier.  It goes to say the creator of all can see and hear it too, an eternity of silence does not make a heavy sleeper, which led him to awaken early.  The land broke, oceans rose, volcanos erupted, and countless lives were lost.  Yet, humanity goes on.  We rebuilt, finding the truth of how the world was made, and searching for a way to calm the sleeping one.

Another thousand years and noise growing louder and louder, another quake wiping out many and near resetting again, as they waited for an answer to be found.  To calm the sleeping denizen of their world, a church was created, devoted only to continuing existence and appeasing the god.  For many hundred years, the church is unpopular for not yielding results. Until...

The answer came in the form of a child, an infant girl abandoned at the church who wailed day and night, a girl from the orphanage answered the baby's wails in the form of a lullaby.  Echoing through the empty sleepless church halls, the first Diva was born.  Her orphan rags replaced with ceremonial garb, the hair grown out and finely groomed, and her malnourished body built to perform a dance to accompany her song.

Humanity continued on as the Diva sang her endless song, and civilization grew noisier.  It kept going, when the first Diva began to grow old the church began a search for the new Diva, magicians and seers from the church came together to find the next.  The baby was found stiff nursing, the family given generous compensation, and at 16 months the infant was raised to take the Firsts place.

The cycle continues on to this day, hundreds of Divas, age 1-10, chosen to do their duties and live their lives to fulfill the greater good.  For that we thank thee, for that we celebrate, for that we survive.

 

* * *

 

 

He closed the pamphlet.  The Diva festival was never something he celebrated.  Grand-Pappy Hartway had told him what had happened to the 148th Diva.  

Not all Divas live to an old age, given family history of health they could pass away before it’s decided it’s time to pick a new Diva.  That is what happened to Kyrien Lillia, or Kyl’il to her friends;  Pappy Hartway spoke of his childhood sweetheart with a look of longing and bliss only comparable to Granny Hartway.  Not every telling was the same, but Gregor could remember the way his grandfather detailed how brutally she was ripped from home and taken to the churches halls…

The Capitol, Big City, was not but it’s name;  vendors lining the streets and children in monster masks singing happily, the Blessings Celebration was in full bloom.  Gregor makes his way through the town square looking about for his contact, a young woman and old friend, a blonde with immense musical skill.

“Gregor!” In the distance a painted individual stands waving in front of a tent.

“Firi!” Gregor said running to gather his friend in a hug.  “I haven’t seen you in forever, almost couldn’t believe it when Rat showed up and told me you wanted me to see me.” Gregor put Firi down and readjusted his red robe.

“Indeed, I’m so happy you could make it!  I know you’re busy so often but I met someone a while ago that has a goal quite similar to yours.” Firi’s ever present smile softens as she looks into Gregor’s eyes,  “I know you haven’t had a traveling companion since Zelvetta decided to start his own guild.”

“Yeah, it’s hard to find people looking for an alternative.  It just doesn’t feel right.”  Gregor pushes back some stray brown hairs and looks down, Firi is holding a lyre, she was holding that before right?

Before he can ask about the gilded instrument Firi gestures for him to follow her through the tent flaps.  Inside in a blonde man sat meditating with a book open to his right, dressed in near all black, including a fedora, he sits on what appears to be a red wire.

Firi gestures in between the two, “Gregor this is Anthony Chiaroscuro, he’s an impressionist.  Anthony this is the adventurer I was telling you about, my friend, Gregor Hartway.”

“Please.”  The blonde stands and opens his blue eyes, he quickly looks Gregor up and down.  “Call me Markus Velafi, Anthony is just a cover name.”  He tips his hat, showing off two red dots growing on his forehead.

Gregor smiles regardless and shakes his hand.  “Nice to meet you, Markus.  FIri told me you’re also searching for ‘the Truth’ too?”  He lets go and searches Markus’s face for signs.

Markus closes his eyes and inhales, “Absolutely.  I guess you’ve noticed but, I’m not exactly human.” He lets the red wire flicker forward, revealing to to be a tail.  “I’m leaving to follow a lead to a long abandoned temple, far far west, on a place called the Shrouded Isles. I’ve also been looking for people to fight alongside, of course if you happen to want to consider it or spend more time getting to know me, I’ll be leaving late tomorrow on a ship heading to Alaran, then down to Altreia.”

“Hm… Well, don’t have any good leads right now, so how about we talk over dinner?”  Gregor smiles at the prospect of a new friend. “Will you join us Firi?”

“As long as we make it to the full moon ceremony, I’m fine with that.” Firi mirrors Gregor’s smile.

Markus takes a moment to look between the two, neither question him, nor his motives, or even what species he is.  As a magic user it was blatantly obvious to him that neither of these people had ill intent towards him, Firi seemed to have some sort of mask, but Gregor had nothing.  Markus wasn’t aware there were adults with no ulterior motives in the Free Isles.  It’s refreshing.

“Firi, Gregor, you are in for a treat! I know the best bar and dinner in the city, how do you feel about mushrooms and/or punching?” Markus flashes them a genuine smile.

 


	2. Don't try to Con Horatio Protagonist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Friends get to know each other

Opting for the Punch Dome over the bar, due to the two non-alcohol drinkers, the three found themselves getting comfortable around the table closest to the door.  Luckily the night was slow while people were out enjoying the festival.  Through the meal Firi had settled nicely into a comfortable happy instead of her usual polite happy; Gregor talked openly getting to know the others; and Markus enjoyed the normalcy of the restaurant.  They spend the evening sharing adventure stories and showing souvenirs.  Firi’s book  of monsters is once again, revised by Gregor’s knowledge, and Markus is impressed by the shared knowledge, contributing as many pieces himself.

“I never knew carrots could taste so good after punching them!” Gregor exclaimed after downing the last of his water.  On the table sat a few empty plates and bowls, Firi dabs the corner of her mouth with a napkin.

Markus chuckles heartily, “It’s called mashing, Gregor.  Colvin grills his stuff with magic first but, you’ve never had mashed potatoes?”

Gregor takes a moment to think, then says, “I’m sure Mama Hartway must’ve made them at least once… but since I haven’t been in a ‘house’ home for a while, so we just roast them usually.” 

“Oh, there’s a stall selling sweet potato mash in the food stalls!  Would you two, maybe, like to see the festivities before the ceremony?”  Markus looks at Firi as her heterochromic eyes lightly sparkle, then to Gregor, also smiling wide.

Markus Tannhauser Velafi, by no means, considers himself weak.  Except physically.  And to people with horns…  Or fire.  Damn.  “We have at least an hour before the ceremony, we could definitely go to a few stalls.”  Not like they had anything to do for a while.

“Colvin, the bill please?” Gregor yelled toward the one eyed man, currently arm wrestling a patreon with no hair and a large beard.  He’d come over multiple times during the meal to provide other dishes, refills, staring contests, banter, arm wrestles, weapons of various shapes and sizes....

Colvin looks up without missing a beat. “Oh yes!  I will be right there!”  He slams the other man’s hand into the table and takes the check out of his belt.  Markus pulls a few gold bills out and sets them on Colvin’s tray, which is obviously beat up.  “Thank you for proving your strength, here, at the Punch Dome!”

As the owner walked to the register and the trio left, Firi turned to Markus.  “That was very sweet of you to pay for dinner, thank you.  I could have gotten it though.”

“Nonsense, the picture you drew of me is plenty payment.  I’ve never been able to find someone who could get my nose right.”  He smiled, pulling his notebook to show the first page.  The drawing was an upper body picture, but without the hat and with 2-inch, black, horns sticking out where the dots in his forehead were.  Over dinner Markus had explained how he was a Tiefling, and how since they were in such a church heavy town, they may not approve of his “devilishly handsome” features.  

“Still, we’re gonna be partners, right?” Gregor smiled, “So how about I pay for the games, since Firi’s letting us stay with her, by the way, thank you Firi.”  He did a half mocking half actually grateful bow.

“It’s no problem at all, both of you.  You still have to get your Free Arc Yeld converted into Bills, right?” Firi looked at Gregor then pointed down the street, “I usually go to that one, Eilin deals with money extremely well.  Funny story, I met her just before she started up her business, also she’s very fey friendly.” She taps her forehead and looks at Markus.

 

* * *

 

Arriving at the corner store, there is only one other figure in a light green cloak. The figure holds up several silver bracelets of various sizes, some simple bangles and some dotted with small emeralds and sapphires.  At the counter, instead of the calm cloaked woman Firi was expecting, a lady with short brown hair and a very neat suit sits at the bench, eyeballing the jewelry hungrily.

“...well even though they most certainly are high quality, but there are plenty of works done by this common jewelry maker, and the stones are just only magic cut.  Not to mention how worn they are, what were these being used for?  These scratches and inner metal wear knock the price down by at least 100 each.” The lady frowns, turning them over in her hands.  “Hmm… how does 400 Gold Bills sound?  For all 6.”

The hooded figure traces her hands over a silver one with leaves engraved around emeralds.  “400 is a lot for these then?”  The obviously female voice hesitates, sounding very confounded by either the monetary conversion or the worth of the silver bracelets.

“I’ll be with you in a moment.”  The brunette at the counter waved to them, showing off their name tag reading “Karen”.  Firi furrowed her brow, wondering who this new person is, while Gregor kept his eyes in contact with Karen’s.  Markus however, stared at the woman who seemed to be looking at the bracelets and debating weather to sell them.

“I suppose if 400 is the best I’ll get for them, I suppose I have no real choice then.”  The lady sighs putting down the finely made silver to join the rest as a hand is placed over hers.

She looks up to see Markus meeting his eyes, his deep blue met her gold, and he slowly shakes his head.  Moving the bracelets back towards her on the counter before glancing at her for permission, he picks up the one she had been cradling.  “Allow me, Karen.”  He shoots a look to the now irritated counter lady.

Gregor looks between the counter people, before leaning over to Firi.  “Does he know what he’s doing?”  He looks at her face, Firi is staring right at Markus, instead of the polite happy she has in the presence of new people she wears a slightly smug “he’s at it again” happy.  

“Yes, I see…  May I ask your name, Miss?”  Markus lowers his jewelers loupe and looks at the woman, at this distance he can see a tuft of white hair peeking out.

She tugs the light green cloak over her face even more,  “...Ashe.  Call me Ashe.”  

“Ashe then.” He licks the bracelet and smacks his lips, making both Ashe and Karen wince.  “Mmm, yes, yes… What you have here is at least 95% silver, possibly Britannia Silver even.  See the crafting signature on this?  MM is actually the signature of Moren Marad, who only does custom jobs and is actually in high demand with veeery few pieces available.  These gems are actually miners cut, not magically, which are thousands of times more rare than magically cut ones.  Hmmm… and did you wear these for everyday use instead of special occasion?”  Hesitation before a nod.  “Yes there is wear, but not enough to quantify 100 to be taken off each, probably for 100 total.  This engraving is beautiful by the way, lovely taste.  All and all these should go for about 20 times as much as you’ve offered.”

Ashe jumps slightly, showing her bare feet, “20 times!  That enou- much more than I’d thought.”  She catches herself and tugs her cloak over her dress.

“If you don’t mind, Miss Karen, I would think if word were to get out about you cheating such a poor, innocent, customer,”  Markus throws an arm around the slightly angry small woman, “Then I’d think that would be bad for both your reputation as well as this store’s, don’t you?”

Karen stare at the fedora clad blonde in utter shock, she stares at the man who just cheated her out of her money.  Enough money to get her own stupid store.  The money she would have used to take this goddamn city by storm.  After losing all her money in that Kuravian bank, this was going to be her shot… and he not only took it, but was also threatening to blackmail her so she could never work in the city again.

Gregor walks forward, grinning.  “Markus!  That was amazing!  How did you know about the pretty bracelets being worth so much?”  Firi follows, glancing at the stunned woman behind the counter.

“Horatio Protagonist, royal advisor extraordinaire.  I’ve dealt with plenty of gems of the highest grade in my time.”  He winks at Firi, who winks at Gregor, who winks at Markus, who turns and winks at Ashe, who has their eyes mostly covered. Markus and Gregor like to think that she winked.

Ashe turns to Karen, “In return for these I want the full amount for just these five.”  She pushes forwards all but the one the tiefing is holding.  Gregor and Markus move to back her up, and Firi stands nearby as emotional support. 

Karen grumbles, utterly defeated, she walks into the back room fetching the full 8000 Gold.  Ashe turns to the newcomers, “I’m undoubtedly grateful, Mr. Protagonist.”  She bows her head. 

“Please, the name’s Velafi, Markus Velafi.”  He kisses her hand and slips the bracelet onto her wrist. “And my compatriots, Gregor Hartway and Firi.”


	3. Strong Firi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carnival games, talking on the way to the church

After settling the affair, the door behind them opens, presenting a graceful swords woman.  Firi immediately moves to hug the new person, delightfully saying, “Eilin!”  The woman reaches over in a way that shows she is not at all used to physical human interaction. “I was wondering where you had gone.”

“Firi, I did not know you were in town.” She looks to the others, then Karen, then back to Firi.  “I see my cousin has been helping you.”  She walks behind the counter.

Markus and Gregor take a second to look between the medium brunettes; both with similar hair of different lengths, glasses with close style and thickness, eyes upturned at their ends, similiar skin tone, although Karen was obviously older their body types very close, and Eilin’s natural state seems to wear an expression close to the calm negotiator look Karen wore less than 20 minutes ago.

“Gregor Hartway, I’m Firi’s friend.”  They shake hands.  “She said you do currency exchange here.  Can you convert Yeld?”  Gregor sets a small sack on the counter, it jingles.

“But of course. Karen, please count this.”  Eilin smiles at her cousin, who freezes, one foot out the door.  Eilin holds up a tin, presumably for money counting, and Karen takes it and sits defeated counting the foreign currency.  Eilin reaches over while her cousin's hands are full and plucks the silver bracelets from her pocket.

Markus meets her eyes, giving her a look before shifting his gaze to Ashe and back a few times.  Ashe tenses when Eilin’s gaze moves to her.  “Should I ask?”

“N-no!  I just, um, you sell other supplies as well, correct?”  Ashe tugs harder at her cloak.  Eilin raises a brow and hands her what seems to be a menu.

“You always have kept interesting company, Firi.”  She takes the paper with a written amount on it, from Karen.  “Tell me, will you all be at the 149th Diva’s Singing Ceremony tonight?” 

“Yes.”  Firi replies, not needing more than the simple answer and a smile.  Eiling nods once and pushes a stack of Bills towards Gregor.

Ashe puts the menu down, having checked off a few boxes on it and slides it to Eilin, who snatches it up and passes it to Karen smoothly.  “Gregor, your total will be 3480 Bills.  You had 2 platinum, 300 gold, and 28 silvers; the exchange rate is at a 7:13 ratio right now, so in your favour.  The store only takes a 14% exchange rate, which is why we tend to get more business than other places.  Is this all?” 

“Wow, thanks.”  Gregor picks up the money and turns to his friends.  “Are you guys ready?”

Firi hands an envelope to Eilin, who hands her a thin book. “Bye bye.” They briefly smile to each other.

Marks cocks his head, “Gregor did you exchange all you money from Free Arc?”  He hold the door for his shorter companions, then takes a last look at Ashe, who waves unsure what else to do.

Gregor waves as the door closes, “Absolutely, I’m going to be in the Free Isles for a while since we’re teaming up, right?”  

Markus chuckles once again, enjoying the company that enjoys him.  “Gregor, this is the start of a Beautiful friendship.”

 

* * *

 

“Firi, I don’t think the hammer can take much more.”  Gregor says, putting his hand on Firi’s shoulder.  She looks at the ‘Test your Strength’ game machine.  Firi had only been on this game for the past 5 minutes, has only played 3 rounds, and yet… the hammer looked ready to crack, just then bell fell from 30 ft in the air, it slams into the ground near the booth attendant.  Firi looks to Markus who nods along behind the pile of prizes in his arms.  “Ok then, it should be about time to head over to the ceremony, hm?”

“As long as we can drop these off back at your tent.”  Markus trembles under the lightweight toys, Gregor takes a few for the sake of Markus’s noodle arms.

Firi begins leading them back through the streets.  Big city is a beautiful maze all on it’s own, but during the Diva festival, on the fourth full moon of the year, it becomes truly magnificent.  Banners line the streets, flags of all kinds fly high and low, stalls of all kinds sit ready to sell to visitors, games by the dozens display colourful prizes, kids run wild in masks of the denizen, and people of all ages dance in the moonlight by the beautiful pond in the center of the town.  Gregor takes in the peace of the community, he blinks slowly and focuses on the church that sits at the top of the city, a part called ‘The Rise’; he looks around at the reason why the church does what it does, at the innocent people who don’t understand the reason they’re alive.  He sighs, turns his attention forward and immediately notices a familiar green cloak.

Gregor waves excitedly, “Ashe!  He-” Before the sentence if finished there is a candied apple in his mouth, it’s actually really good.

“Shhhhhh!”  Ashe lets go of the apple, leaving it in Gregor’s mouth.  “I’m sorry but I really don’t want any… attention on myself right now.”  She tugs at her cloak, which had flown open a bit in her haste to quiet Gregor.  It is obvious how she no longer wears the white dress from earlier, but now has dawned a common set of dark brown and green clothes, including a backpack and boots.

“Hello, Ashe.  Are you coming to the ceremony too?” Firi holds out a plush pig, which Ashe pets awkwardly.

“I can’t say I was planning on it…  There are just other things I want to do then…”  Ashe picks at the empty skewer stick from the booth directly behind her.  “Are you guys just in town for the festival then?”

Firi furrows her brow for a moment then lets it pass, “Yes, it will be Markus’s first time hearing a Diva sing.  You should join us!”  Firi grabs her empty hand.

Markus readjusts the prizes in his arms, “We’re going right after we drop these off, walk with us, Ashe!”

“We’re leaving tomorrow, this could be the last time we see you for a while, pleeeaassee?” Gregor gives a big puppy dog look, the headband he won from the shooting stand sparking on his head.

Ashe looks at the three kind strangers who already considered her a friend, not having this much social interaction before she hadn’t realized it, but Ashe is really bad under pressure. “I mean i guess I might be able to, just for a little while. B-but I’m leaving tomorrow too, so I’d like to get some sleep tonight.”

The three cheers resound, Firi lightly tugs the other woman’s hand  and leads them towards the tent.  They talk about past experiences with the festival, as it is an international event.  Markus reveals how he used to work for a family that supported the festival, and how the festival is some of the only vacation time he would get off, so he never thought to spend it near the family at the ceremonies; Ashe thinks some of it sounds fake.  Firi speaks of how she’s traveled and been to festivals all over for work, she has played with others at many different festivals, yet has only heard the current Diva a handful of times.  Gregor surprises everyone by saying that he’s heard them every year.  At first it was a familial decision to heard her song, then after a certain incident he went for remembrance.

“It’s just that over the years, people don’t remember them, you know?”  Gregor looks back to the others while on their way to the Rise.  Dropping off the toys hadn’t taken more than a minute, and Ashe’s bags were more than welcome to be left too. 

Markus pulls out a book, a simple issued holy text, the kind people go door to door giving out to people who “need religion”, he flips to a page near the back.  “The names of every Diva are written down in the back of every church piece though, I remember they had this huge debate on whether to include the name of the baby the First sang to.”

Gregor shakes his head and turns to walk up the stairs, “That’s exactly the reason why I think it’s important to hear them every year.  You called her ‘The First’, her name was Narn Whales Zeth.  Grand-Pappy Hartway loved the 148th Diva, Kyrien Lillia, and because of her duty as the next Diva, no one remembers what she even looked like.  I just feel like I have to… at least hear her..?”  Gregor tenses up, pausing at the top of the stairs.

“Because it’s your only chance to know anything about them.”  Ashe looks down, she puts an arm gently around Gregor, who gives a tired smile.

The four make their way into the church’s halls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> During everything is on fire Firi refers to Narn as her friend who suddenly showed up, and when speaking of Narn to Gregor and Markus, Firi calls her friend a "she". So I made Narn the first Diva


	4. Rec in Peace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They hear he 149th Diva's song

‘Markus Velafi is man who goes by many names, who seeks a truth that the church won’t look for, who has talents not even his close friend know, who can never return home, who has seen too much tragedy in this world, who is like anyone else, who gets lonely in his quest, a man who should probably stop thinking about himself in third person.’ After traveling with Firi’s caravan for so long, Markus had adapted to being alone with his thoughts while the others were out and about. Markus shakes his head to clear it and looks around the church.

  
The center of the church tents at least 50 ft over their heads, pillars far on either side are inlaid with vague carving of what people guess Divas look like, rows and rows of wooden pews evenly rest in the hall, the people stream in, the hall fitting maybe 1000. By the altar lays offerings of all kinds, from flowers to gold, surrounding the large head of a gramophone that leads downwards, and a glorious collage of coloured glass placed directly over the altar glows with the moonlight and casts the representational figure of the Denizen over the crowd.

  
Their seats aren’t close to the stage by any means, but fairly central. The attendants and workers for the church light candles and bear offering pots for the visitors. People rush to fill seats while some end up standing to the sides of the room, there are only five minutes until the ceremony begins.

  
Firi gives a joyous look to her friends and reads them over; immediately she can see Gregor’s wariness about being here, while he’s heard the Diva every year, it had never been in the church’s central location. She turns to Markus who is looking around with a glazed over eye, seeming to be searching for something. Firi blinks, expecting this from her old friends, but, as she turns to Ashe she nearly jolts back. Ashe has wrapped her hair up under her cloak, she tugs nervously at her sleeves and meets Firi’s eyes.

  
“Sorry, I just feel a little off… um, being here.” Firi raises an eyebrow to question it, but does not push; Ashe seems grateful for it, seeming to relax at least a little bit.

  
A man in a long deep red cloak walks to the center of the church, he lifts back his hood to reveal a man who would tower above all even if he was not on a podium, his beard is finely manicured to stick out at angles, sat upon the muscles of his upper arm is a tattoo of purple boxes and blue swirls, placed delicately on his bald head rests a circlet of gold to match the large necklace draped over his chest, he is the very aesthetic of power.

  
The church falls silent as he opens his mouth and a tiny soft voice echos through the church. “Greeting everyone we are honored to have each and every one of you here tonight for the 149th Diva’s Annual Full Moon Song Ceremony. My name is Dao Digger, the head Pastor for the Central church of Big City. As you may know at the strike of midnight we shall remove the seal from the great pipe which links up with the chamber of our Denizen, okay? In that time from which the seal is removed absolutely no one make even a small sound, a sound could interrupt her song or bother the Denizen, and we don’t want that…”

  
He goes on in his speech but Markus and Gregor look at the two girls next to them, Markus makes an obvious gesture of “his voice?!”, to which Ashe holds p a hand to quietly chuckle. Firi continues her polite smile and places a finger over her lips before gesturing back to Dao and his soft voice.

“...and so if anyone is opposed to our silence spell, please leave now.” He pauses and nods to a woman dressed in mostly purple, her long hair sways as he strides up to the podium and presents a large orb, she mutters a few words before it glows over the crowd, the orb rises up to float in the center of the chandelier. The people watch as the light from the orb cascades down upon the crowd, almost battling with the light from the shrine.

Gregor opens his mouth, but finds his voice is gone, he gestures to the others. He points to the orb, then to the crowd, then to his throat, and finally makes a questioning look. Ashe and Markus nod. Markus can feel the powerful magic swirling through the hall and silencing the crowd, he looks to the witch who has since sat down and pulled out what appears to be half of a baguette.

Dao along with two others each place a hand of the head of the gramophone, their rings glow and the head turns, allowing the sound of music box to drift in. The beginning of the song drifts in:

 

  
_“At the starting of this, a so called ‘Paradise’_  
_I seek out the voice which will never found_  
_For even the fated to never see light_  
_Still wish to taste the world around.”_

 

  
The song continues on but the audience is enraptured by the Diva’s voice melodiously sweeping over the hushed crowd, almost freezing the crowd. Firi is holding open the book she purchased from Eilin earlier, but her eyes remain closed as she is enraptured by the music. Gregor appears to be thinking about it, perhaps committing the tone and feeling of the Diva’s voice to memory, an unknown gesture to show how he appreciates her sacrifice. Markus, never having heard a Diva sing before, takes it a little more to heart; he listens to her wishes for a paradise where people could live on without trouble and how she seems to be dedicating the song to someone she’s never even met. Ashe is crying; which is not to say that it’s unusual, a lot of people in the crowd mutedly weep for either the tone or for the song’s beauty.

  
It lasts for a whole 5 minutes, which is on the longer side for a song, but too short for the crowd. The 3 men move up to reseal the gramophone head, letting the music fade away regrettably. The witch from before, looking more in though than before makes no show of bringing the orb down from it’s pedestal like when it had gone up. The room is quiet until someone stands and locks their hands together into a prayer sign, most of the crowd joins them as the murmurs of prayer and shuffling of feet begin to rise from the silence.

  
“It kinda leaves you with an empty feeling, doesn’t it?” Gregor stands first, stretching his arms to the ceiling. Ashe and Markus nod, neither moving to stand.

  
Firi raises her hand from the book Eilin sold her, “It is indeed, Gregor. I just wish I could hear the real thing more often, but look at this!” In Firi’s open book are lines, with dots, and marks, and words… not words, lyrics.

“You took the musical score?” Ashe practically shoves her face into Firi’s hands, she flips through the pages of sheet music; after checking it over she looks up, eyes watering. “How?”

“Eilin is a old friend of mine. We met while she was still questing in the Feywilds, when I approached her with a quest to find a way to make sheet music of something you could only hear, she gave me one of these.” Firi holds up the book proudly. “It took us years, but Eilin found a source that can make them every few years, and they don’t cost too much because they have conditional uses.”

Markus held out a hand, “May I?” Firi, closes and hands over the book. Markus runs his fingers over the spine, then opens and flips through the book, he takes a good 5 minutes. “Hmm… Selkie hairs, pixie spit, 72 year old trees paper, giant squid ink, regular leather… Nothing too hard to get but, there are a lot of restrictions on this. The user needs to have at least a 20% natural magical bloodline, the user must know how to play any instruments used in the song, the song has to be meaningful to over 50 people, and the room has to be dead quiet or the book with pick up outside noise as part of the song. Under most circumstances, it would be impossible to meet the criteria except…” Markus looks back up at the alter.

“That’s amazing, Firi, you are- have, you have no idea how much that means to me.” Ashe hugs the blonde tightly. “Did you three wanna get a snack before bed? It is past midnight, but, my treat?” She offers.

Gregor looks at Ashe with a wide smile, “Yeah, we’re all leaving tomorrow so this is going to be the last time we see you, right?”

“Indeed.” Firi nodded.

The four looked out at the nearly empty church and left. Ashe the last one out, closed the door and said, “So, do any of you drink?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song in a personal translation of the start of the second verse of "Paradise of Light and Shadows"


End file.
